Chapter 23

I had wondered about a meeting with ‘Edie’. As her real name had been scratched out of any paperwork I had been sent, I felt she intended to remain incognito. I was happy with that. It seemed uncomplicated. Nevertheless, the children would eventually ask what their biological mother was like.

It had been my intention to describe to them her role in the process as that of a blood or organ donor. One is terribly grateful for the life-saving donation, but one does not knock on their door and maintain a lasting relationship. What if I really did not like her? What if she had personality traits that I found offensive? Would I be looking out for these in the children?

It was safer, in a way, to remain in ignorance. I had seen Tina as the mother, but now that I had to think for them too, I decided that I at least had to try and get in touch. ‘Edie’ had been ‘open to a meeting’. It had been arranged for the day I had spent kicking my heels outside the Federal Building in Los Angeles, so I thought I had missed my opportunity. Luckily she was available on the day we left and I waited for her with Claude outside a café at a San Diego shopping mall.

What do you say when you meet your children’s mother for the first time? Of all the odd things I had done, I thought this would be the oddest.

In fact, it was one of the most pleasant. Melissa proved to be delightful in every way. She told me about her ambitions to remain at the university as a post-graduate, her interest in languages, her own background, her travel to England and her English grandmother—and why she was content for her progeny to exist away from her knowledge and influence.

‘My mom left when I was two. My dad brought me up. I have never seen her as my mom because she never did the job. That’s why I don’t see myself as the parent of these children. I’m not doing the job.’

It was beautifully logical and, although it interpreted ‘parent’ in its narrowest context, it was an argument that I could live with. There was no anguish; no area for doubt. This beautiful, articulate and intelligent woman saw what she had done as purely transactional. She received payment for her donations - not a large sum, but it helped her through college.

I could see no aspect of Melissa that I would regret seeing in the boys, although I wondered what the long-term effect of the knowledge that her own mother had left her after two years might be. Rather more, I supposed, than the never-had-been-there situation my own children would be in. We posed side by side, looking slightly awkward while Claude took my camera and clicked the shutter.

There we were. What was likely to be our only meeting was preserved; frozen in time. I was utterly relieved and delighted that it had taken place. She felt the same, it seems.

In an e-mail to Vivian she wrote, ‘It was so nice to meet Ian today. I was very impressed with him and I think he is going to be a great Daddy for those boys. You know, I had forgotten that you told me they were boys. I was thinking the triplets were all girls! I want to commend you for making people’s dreams come true. It was moving to see Ian so enthusiastic. Keep up the good work—it’s the work of an angel!’

Angels have feet of clay, though. I had been immensely lucky. At various stages the babies could have died or been born handicapped. There could have been a huge case with the insurers. Tina could have decided to keep the children and lean on me for child support. The possibilities for disaster were legion. Not so much an angel as a lady who is willing to take a chance to give people what they think they want, I thought. I could not sleep at night in such a risky business. Vivian was serene. She was troubled by no such soul-searching.

I was delighted to leave San Diego. I heard my pulse as I walked down the narrow walkway, past passport control, through the perfunctory pre-9/11 security and stepped off American soil. No one had rushed forward at the last moment brandishing an envelope with a bill for hundreds of thousands of dollars. No one had barricaded the way, refusing to let these three little American boys leave.